


Save the last stand for me

by Aegir



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, lots of insults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:13:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegir/pseuds/Aegir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every friendship has its habits.  For Steve and Bucky it's taking on overwhelming odds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save the last stand for me

**Author's Note:**

> So there was a prompt at stevebucky_fest 'Steve and Bucky, bloody, battered, defiant, back to back against overwhelming odds'. It was meant chiefly as an art prompt, but since I can't do art and I am a complete sucker for last stands I did this instead.

**1928**

“We’re gonna die,” Bucky says flatly. His lip is cut, Steve has a bloody nose and a left eye rapidly darkening.

“Nah, the Garrett brothers are too chicken to kill us,” Steve gasps.

“If they don’t, your Ma will!”

A clod of thrown earth hits Steve on the ear, and he shouts, “Come here and fight, why don’t you!”

“Yeah, that’s just what we need!”

“They’re gonna fight us anyway, Bucky!”

Danny Garrett is shouting stuff about Steve’s ancestry and habits, and Bucky takes the time to yell back, “I heard your old man puts dog meat in his sausages!” The next clod hits him on the shoulder and bursts, some of it falling on Steve’s neck where they stand back to back. Bucky’s grown in the last year, he’s got an inch over Steve now. “Steve, you couldn’t have kept your mouth shut, just for once?”

“Couldn’t let them get away with saying stuff like that, Buck.”

“Pretty sure the Dodgers don’t care what the Garrett brothers say about them. A baseball team don’t need you defending their honour, Stevie!”

“At least I wash more than once a year!” Steve yells at Johnny Garrett. “And you’re all a bunch of cowards. Five against two and you still won’t fight!”

Five clods strike almost at once, and the Garrett brothers charge.

 

**1943**

“Surrender, and we may be merciful!” The voice isn’t Red Skull, which of his minions it is hardly matters.

“Never!” Steve shouts back defiantly, in his best Captain America voice. Even if Captain America currently has a bullet in the shoulder and his shield embedded in a wall where it had stuck after ricocheting off a robot that had moved at the wrong moment.

The force of the recoil as Bucky fires runs through Steve as well, his back against Bucky’s. The HYDRA guard who’d been taking aim at them from an upper walkway drops instantly. “Next time,” Bucky grunts, painfully because of his bruised and maybe cracked ribs, “Dum-Dum can join you on the decoy party.”

“You know you enjoy a chance for close quarters.”

The guards are massing, robots distributed among them. The robots aren’t smart, they tend to go round in circles and strike at random, but one of them will land a lucky hit eventually.

“How much ammo have you left?”

“Not much,” Bucky answers. Steve feel him shrug, one shouldered because of the rifle stock pressed against the other. “Well, it’s been a while since I had a chance to kick someone from HYDRA in the nuts.”

One of the robots lurches towards them, and Steve fires, it doesn’t do much more than distract the thing, but that’s enough to make it crash into the wall. Then the wall crashes inward under the weight of a tank. Dernier sticks his head out the top and shouts “Vive la Revolution!” as Falsworth bursts through behind him at the head of a company of troops.

“Thanks for the gatecrash!” Steve shouts cheerfully, “Can someone get my shield?”

 

**2017**

“Status report,” Steve gasps into his com.

“Banner and Stark are working with Dr Foster on disabling the signal controlling those things,” Maria Hill’s voice reports. “Falcon’s grounded – only cuts and bruises but the wings are out of commission. Thor’s keeping the route for civilian evacuation open, everyone else we can concentrate has joined him. So far they’re holding the line, but it’s tough.”

“Right,” Steve says. “We’ll keep the ones here busy as long as we can.”

He leans his shoulders against Bucky, who leans back into him. They’ve done this often enough they know how to balance their weights, use this moment to catch a breather. Steve’s uniform is ripped and bloody, and he’s pretty sure his right leg is broken. Bucky’s no better off.

Scenes like this have become far too familiar. Wrecked, abandoned cars, smoke and dust and leaning buildings, alarms ringing pointlessly. The blackened sign that now reads OL YWO D gives it a surreal touch.

“You know, I could murder some Thai fusion,” Bucky says.

“I feel more like pizza. With garlic bread.”

One of the skeletons surrounding them makes a lunge forward and skitters back as Steve swings his shield threateningly. It’s not yet clear whether they are actual reanimated bones, which everyone hopes they’re not, or whether they’re some form of robotic construct. Either way they’re really hard to put down permanently, and have an uncomfortable amount of strength. The one good thing is they can’t seem to manage any weapon more complicated than a meat cleaver, but there are a lot of sharp edges and heavy instruments being wielded.

“Uh-oh,” Bucky says. “Speech time.”

“Good,” Steve grunts, “that means the breather will last a bit longer.”

Loki has appeared on the roof of one of the wrecked vans. Steve throws his shield, on general principle but isn’t surprised when it passes through and Loki reappears on a red car, slightly closer to the roundabout where Steve and Bucky are making their stand.

“Despite that pointless gesture I’m impressed. Sufficiently so to discuss surrender terms.”

“Surrender?” Bucky calls, “Well, sweet of you to offer, but we don’t have the facilities to take you prisoner right here.”

Loki looks annoyed, but he recovers. “In fact your fighting skills are impressive enough I’m willing to take you into my service.”

“Well,” Steve shouts back, “Under other circumstances we might be willing to discuss pay terms, but neither of us would want to work for a guy who wears a hat with giant cow horns.”

“This from a man who used to go on stage with little wings on his head,” Bucky mutters, pulling a breath of tired laughter from Steve.

There’s no mistaking Loki’s anger this time. Still he contains it enough to make a theatrical gesture. “As you wish. Your betrayal would have wounded my dear brother deeply, but your deaths will serve well enough.”

There’s a brief moment when both let their heads fall back, resting against each other. It’s brief, the skeleton army is lining up. They straighten in the same moment, shoulders squared, weapons raised.


End file.
